


After the Storm

by Potrix



Series: The Cradle of Power [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Caring Bucky Barnes, Coping Mechanisms, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Iron Man 3, Prompt Fill, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s irrational, this fear Tony has that he’ll be judged for every little imperfection, this idea he has stuck in his head that no matter how hard he works, how hard he tries, he’ll inevitably fail and disappoint and not be good enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/post/114303583709/imaginetonyandbucky-tumblr) from my winteriron blog [imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Part two of a three-part series. 
> 
> Title from a quote by Matthew Henry: "After a storm comes a calm."

Tony has tics.

They make an appearance whenever he’s nervous, agitated, embarrassed, overwhelmed, out of his depth, sad, gets complimented or has to deal with any other emotion he doesn’t know how to express.

Which are a lot, Bucky comes to realise pretty quickly.

Bucky catches him fiddling with the spoons he’s supposed to carry over to the table while Steve reads him the riot act after another too close call, sees him duck his head and play with his bracelet during the apparently annual news report about his parents’ death, watches him twirl around a wrench as he glares at a set of particularly stubborn calculations.

There are a lot of isolated incidents like these that Bucky witnesses over time, but the constant, the thing Tony always falls back on when nothing else is at hand, is the tapping.

He will reach up, rap his knuckles against the centre of his chest, then grimace and clench his hand into a fist, lips pursing and movements jerky.

It’s where the Arc Reactor used to sit, Bucky knows, the piece of genius technology that had kept Tony alive for years, now gone and replaced with a thick, radial scar Tony is incredibly self-conscious about, considering most of the people living with him are littered with marks and ugly reminders or missing certain limbs.

It’s irrational, this fear Tony has that he’ll be judged for every little imperfection, this idea he has stuck in his head that no matter how hard he works, how hard he tries, he’ll inevitably fail and disappoint and not be good enough.

But Bucky has firsthand experience in trying to let go of guilt and moving on, of forgiving himself for things that have always been out of his control, and the closer he and Tony grow, the more set Bucky is on showing Tony that doesn’t have to pretend, that’s he’s loved exactly the way he is.

Infuriating personality, sassy attitude and lacking brain to mouth filter included.

It isn’t easy, though, because while Tony can flirt with the best of them, can charm the pants off anyone he meets within minutes and make Bucky weak in the knees with only a few choice words, genuine praise causes him to shut down completely.

Bucky learns that when he has Tony naked and already panting underneath him for the very first time, pulling back just enough to take in and enjoy the sight in front of him.

Tony’s eyes snap open at the loss of contact and after blinking rapidly, attempting to clear his head, for a few moments, his face crumples and then goes scarily blank. “I can-“ he begins, cuts himself off again, hands twitching toward his sternum, and starts rolling over.

“I want to see you,” Bucky insists knowingly and takes a hold of his hips, sliding back between his legs. “All of you.”

Tony looks dubious, expression sceptical, but he allows Bucky to grab his wrists and, gently yet firmly, pin them to the mattress next to his head.

“You’re beautiful,” Bucky whispers, ignoring Tony’s derisive snort, and bends down to trail his lips over the raised, knobbly skin on his chest, biting back a smile when Tony gasps. “Smart. Funny,” he continues as he moves lower, kissing Tony’s stomach and dipping his tongue into his navel. “Sexy.” A playful nip to the inside of Tony’s thigh and a frustrated groan from Tony.

“Tease,” Tony accuses faintly, the glare he shoots down at Bucky losing most of its effectiveness due to his blown-wide pupils and shaking voice.

“I don’t like you talkin’ bad about yourself,” Bucky says pointedly and then, before Tony can think of a comeback, he swallows him down to the root to pre-emptively shut him up.

But Tony being Tony, he doesn’t let it go, mumbles, “You don’t have to say all that for me to put out, you know,” into Bucky’s sweaty neck half an hour later, refusing to meet Bucky’s gaze.

“I wanna say it,” Bucky murmurs back, shifting enough so he can link his fingers with Tony’s, the other arm wrapping more tightly around Tony’s waist. “I will say it, as long as it takes for you to stop bein’ and idiot about it.”

Tony hums absently in acknowledgement, his attention on where their hands are clasped together. He brings them up higher and brushes kisses over Bucky’s knuckles with a contented little sigh.

And Bucky understands, all of a sudden, why Tony fidgets and does what he does when those ‘icky feelings’ are involved, what the connection between the seemingly random mannerisms is.

Deep down, under the playboy persona and the snark and all the bluster and the bravado, Tony is still that little boy who likes to build and create and bend metal to his will, who loves to tinker and take things apart for the sake of it, to learn how everything works and how it ticks and why.

To test his theory, Bucky uses his metal hand to cup Tony’s cheek, thumb stroking back and forth slowly, and can’t help but breathe out in relief when Tony leans into the contact with a quiet, unconscious moan, rubbing the tips of his fingers over the back of Bucky’s hand almost reverently.

Bucky makes it his responsibility to offer Tony this comfort, this means of escape as often as possible after that.

So he slides his prosthetic fingers into the short hair at the base of Tony’s neck when Tony is about to stab Fury in his one remaining eye, lets Tony clutch at his upper arm when he wakes up screaming, presses his thumb into the sole of his foot when Tony has been yelling at his tablet for hours, laces their fingers together when Tony’s smile is horrible and fake for the paparazzi and reporters.

And Tony, without exception, always sags at the slightest touch, shoulders losing some of their rigidity, the tense lines around his eyes and mouth immediately becoming less prominent.

Given all that, it’s really no wonder that when Bucky wakes up one morning, months into their relationship, Tony snoring softly and drooling onto his chest with his hair mussed up all adorably and a cute little wrinkle on the bridge of his nose, he knows exactly what to do.

Bruce, after he’s been sworn to absolute secrecy, is all too happy to help, carefully scraping a few slivers of bright silver metal off Bucky’s forearm, holding them out to him in a tiny plastic baggy with a smile and a, “Go get him.”

Natasha knows a discrete jeweller because, Bucky suspects, she knows a discrete everything, and then Clint invites himself to tag along, but he has surprisingly good taste so Bucky doesn’t mind all that much and doesn’t even complain about the outrageousness of 21st century prices.

He mulls over how best to do it, about the right moment and place and setting, for days until Steve has enough of his pacing and whinging, throws his book at Bucky and shouts, “Just do it, Buck, or I’ll ask him myself, don’t think I won’t.”

Bucky grumbles at him but trudges back up to the penthouse where he’s greeted by the sight of Tony sprawled out on the couch in one of Bucky’s hoodies and his ‘comfy jeans’ that are more air than fabric at this point, craning his neck when he hears the elevator ding and beaming up at Bucky and-

“Marry me,” Bucky blurts but, and he will be very insistent on this later, totally saves the situation by producing the velvet box out of his pocket and sliding to one knee at Tony’s side as he pops it open, lower lip sucked between his teeth and eyes wide and hopeful.

He takes Tony’s garbled, “Wha-?” and the enthusiastic kiss that ends with Tony in his lap and both of them crying, just a little bit, as a yes.

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works) or come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> For more winteriron fun, visit [imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/) where you can leave your prompts and headcanons and receive mini-ficlets in return.


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